#implied jaytim

[caitwritesao3]

shark tank ☉ for the ask game: would loveeee to see ur take on dicktim during the prodigal son arc! tim being the robin to dick's batman after bruce not picking dick the first time around just has so much angst and potential and im really trying to push my dicktim agenda this year i think they deserve to be very Weird about each other

“You want me to be your Robin?” Tim cautiously questioned Dick. Dick gave him a half hearted nod. Tim glanced over his shoulder toward the med bay where Bruce rested with Alfred tending to him diligently. A broken back had put the big bad Bat out of commission.

“Tim… I wouldn’t ask this from anyone else.” Dick spoke softly, his fingertips reaching out to brush Tim’s hand. “I don’t know how to be Batman, not like B does. You though, you do.”

Tim gnawed on his lower lip, his eyes traveling down to Dick’s hand as it wrapped around Tim’s wrist pulling him closer. His sneakers squeaked on the metal floor until he was fully between Dick’s open legs. Tim’s knees knocked Dick’s thighs as he shifted, refusing eye contact. “I don’t know. I’ve turned Jason down so man-”

“I’m not Jason!” Dick hissed his hands trailing up to Tim’s waist. “You are the best detective in this cave. We both know B would be lost without you. Tim, please. I need you.” The heat behind the word sent a shiver down Tim’s spine.

Dick stood pressing his front to Tim's, his arms wrapping fully around Tim’s waist. His lips grazed Tim’s forehead, nose nuzzling Tim’s cheek. Tim knew if he dared turn his head their lips would touch. “Dick…”

Finally tipping his head back blue clashed with blue. Tim noted Dick’s pupils started to dilate. A large hand came up and cupped his cheek, Tim tried to take a step back but Dick refused to let go. The arm around his waist tightened, the hand by his face raked into his hair.

“You’re the perfect Robin Tim, you have no idea. There's a reason Jason wants you so bad. Why B has refused to let you go all these years. Come on baby bird… don’t you love me?”

Tears stung Tim’s eyes and he sucked in his lip to stop the trembling. He had heard the same speech from Jason. It was ingrained in his brain from Bruce, the older man’s words buried deep into his heart. Tim had quickly learned there were a certain set of responsibilities that came with wearing the R on his chest. A heavier weight than that of the Bat that would soon be stretched across Dick’s chest.

Dick’s lips ghosted Tim’s as he spoke, “I’ll be gentler than him, I promise.”

Sighing Tim closed the short gap, his fists gripping Dick's shirt between his fingers. He knew he shouldn't, but Dick was Tim's first crush, his first longing. Tim really did love the eldest Robin loved Dick more than anyone.

The situation may not be ideal but nothing ever was in their life. "So is that a yes?" Dick grinned pressing another kiss to Tim's lips. Tim eagerly nodded in response.

[lilacwriter07]

Red Hood: You are making me so mad, do you want to be killed this badly ?!

Red Robin: No, I am flirting with you bitch, flash me a tit or something will ya !

[bulletsxlattes]

I saw this Jason drawing I did 5 years ago circulating the last few days so I decided to try and update it.

INPRNT

[the-alice-of-hearts]

Ruin me (Jay/Tim)

Read on AO3 here

Words: 766

Summary: Jason loves to push buttons, but Tim has always given as much as he's got

Jason knew he could press people’s buttons, he lived for it even. Watching his family tiptoe around him was painful, but being under their smothering attention was worse. He took a breath and tried to ground himself in the play fight he was having with Tim. Tim would engage with him, even when he was at his worst, and he could never decide if that was a good thing or not. Tim was being snappy as usual, and Jason couldn’t help but watch him circling the room. The younger Robin was complaining about Damian again, something that the littlest bat had done on patrol. 

Then Tim rounded on him. “Are you even listening?” 

“Blah blah blah, Damian being a terror, blah blah blah, Jason fuck me, blah blah blah are you listening,” Jason repeated back to him. 

Tim’s face went red and he glared. “I didn’t say that!” 

“You were thinking it.” Jason countered. That was the fun of Tim, Jason always knew when he’d come over with a pathetic excuse to get Jason’s attention. And wearing the shorts and tank top that he was wearing in the crisp Gotham late winter Jason knew this was a plea for something he wasn’t willing to ask for. 

Tim pouted for a moment and then changed his stance to that of a predator looking at its prey. “You couldn’t handle me.” Tim challenged him. 

Jason stalked forward to him and looked down into his eyes. “Wanna bet?” 

To his credit, Tim didn’t shrink back or flinch when Jason got into his space, but Jason hadn’t been expecting him to. Tim was too headstrong for his own good, and Jason loved that about him. 

Tim’s eyes dilated just a little in fear or arousal Jason wasn’t sure, for the prey like man it was a good bet it was both. 

“Thought you didn’t hurt kids?” Tim responded. 

Jason laughed darkly. “We both know you’ve always been the exception, Red. But don’t worry, word on the street is that the little birdy finally celebrated his eighteenth birthday.” 

Tim’s face twisted into a grin and then he finally took a step back. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 

“I always keep tabs on you,” Jason responded, reaching out to grab Tim by the shoulder before he could get any further. “Need to know when you’re gonna pop up and be a pain in my side.” 

Tim tensed up in Jason’s hold and Jason just grinned at him. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” 

Jason walked him back into the wall behind him and then leaned in close, boxing Tim in. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson you won’t forget.” 

Tim licked his lips and stared up at Jason with his brilliant eyes. “Try me.” 

Jason pressed his lips to Tim’s and adjusted his hold on him to hold him by the neck. It took just one squeeze for Tim to gasp. “Careful there,” Jason muttered as he kissed down Tim’s jaw. “I’m getting ideas.” 

Tim moaned and Jason shoved his thigh between Tim’s legs so that he could ride his leg. Jason felt Tim’s cock through the thin material of his shorts as he rutted against Jason’s leg. Jason’s own cock was at attention and leaking precum as he kept kissing Tim and pressing him into the wall. 

Tim tried to say something but Jason tightened his hand around his neck once more. That shut him up successfully and got him looking at Jason with tears in his eyes. After a moment of breathlessness, Jason loosened his hold again so that Tim could gasp in breath. The tears slowly dripped down his face and Jason kissed them one by one. “Oh my beautiful birdy, I always enjoy breaking you.” 

Tim jumped up and wrapped his legs around Jason’s waist so that he could be closer. “Again,” he rasped out. 

Jason kept his hold around Tim’s neck and squeezed again watching Tim’s face closely. It was something that Tim had admitted to him when they’d started whatever this way, he loved the rush of endorphins that being strangled brought him, and who was Jason to deny him this when he always cried so pretty when he was losing oxygen? Jason let up after long enough that he knew Tim was completely out of air and watched him pant and stare up at him. “Please,” Tim’s voice sounded wreaked even though Jason hadn’t done much yet. 

“Please what, baby bird?” Jason asked. 

“Please ruin me,” Tim begged and Jason tilted his head up and then was claiming his lips in a kiss. 

“With pleasure.”

[ferrouswheel11]

#incest ship#age gap ship#minor adult ship

found these tags on someone's reblog of my ace attorney au... your honor they're less than two years apart. they're the same age. they're not related. someone save me.

[wingdingery]

Trick or treat!!!

Hello very secret anon ;)

For you, another trip to the WIP icebox! This is from a verse I mentally call “WFA vibes but they’re all poly and having complicated relations” (or BPA – Bat Polycule Adventures for short, and yes I do have a diagram lol).

__________

“Listen, Dick—you and Cass,” Steph says, gesturing between the two of them with a flick of her finger. She’s sitting on the other couch, legs thrown over Cass’s lap.

“Between the two of you, you could break in anywhere, physically or digitally,” she says, ticking the points off on her fingers as she speaks, “you could kick anyone’s ass, you’re super cute together, and you’re probably the least likely to get distracted making out in a corner. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Hey!” Duke stops massaging Tim’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t get distracted making out with anyone in a corner!”

“I’m pretty sure none of us would except those two,” Tim says, nodding to Steph and Cass.

“I resemble that remark,” Steph says. “And, besides,” she says, turning to Duke, “you, young padawan, have yet to graduate from the Alfred Pennyworth School of Bat-acting. No undercover missions until you have your certificate. That’s the rule.”

“Wait,” Duke says, “am I actually gonna get a certificate?”

“Too hard to keep track of all the paper, so we switched to a digital badge system instead,” Babs says. “When was the last time you checked your Batquest app? It’s under Skills.”

Duke pulls out his phone and starts scrolling. “There are way too many sections on that thing.”

“That’s what I said!” Dick says, sitting up as much as he can with Jason’s arm weighing him down. “You know how this started? Stickers. All I wanted was stickers. I made a cute little app with stickers. And then—” Dick waves his hands in the universal Bat sign for a whole bunch of shit happened that I don’t want to talk about, “—so I left the project to Babs and Tim, and I come back to all this.”

“RPG themes make everything better!” Tim says.

“Seconded,” Babs says.

Dick throws his hands up. “I don’t even understand how the points and leveling system works! I just guess whenever I need to change the code!”

“Actually, I don’t totally understand it either,” Tim says.

Babs winces. “Seconded.”

“Okay, you’re all getting distracted here!” Steph says. “I mean, I think one of you should definitely fix that soon, because girl wants her Batpoints—but we have tickets to buy! I am officially nominating Dick and Cass for the mission. Dick or Cass, do you object?”

“No objections,” Cass says.

“No objections.” Dick smiles at Cass. “I feel like it’s been a long time since we did a mission together.”

“Dick and Cass have been officially nominated,” Babs says. “Anyone else?”

“Me and Tim,” Jason says, raising the hand that isn’t on Dick’s shoulder. “Same reasons as Dick and Cass.”

Steph flails on the couch, nearly kicking Cass. “Excuse me, you guys would totally get distracted making out!”

Tim raises his hand. “Veto. I get sick on cruises.”

Jason stares at him. “You live on a boat.”

“I didn’t say I get seasick,” Tim says. “Cruise ships are like an incubator for any infectious disease. My parents took me on one once and I had diarrhea for like a week straight. Never again.”

Steph wrinkles her nose. “TMI, dude.”

[cologona]

Doodles from this fic which I’m going crazy about right now. I will definitely be revisiting when I have more time to draw!!

[debilsposts]

🦇 My JayTim Fic Masterlist 🦇 

Hello, I’m Tori, and I write fics so bad they should be considered a crime. Unfortunately, I just keep writing them because no one has yet told me to stop. You can find my AO3 here, proceed with caution. 🪫 Currently suffering from an extreme case of writer’s block. If you have demands, now’s the time to yell them at me before I turn to dust. Full list below the cut 👇

✨ SFW ✨

looking most human (feeling nothing like it) – Android AU, Slowburn, Android Abuse, Hurt/Mild Comfort | WIP, 2,366 words (1/?) Android Tim is, for some reason, obsessed with a dead boy named Jason.

teach me a kinder way to say your name – Soulmate AU, Getting Together | Completed, 6,131 words A terrible sleepless night. A perfectly soft morning after.

listen to the sound of you blinking – Gotham Knights AU, Supernatural Vibes, Hurt/Mild Comfort, Open Ending | Completed, 6,252 words Jason keeps popping up in Tim’s room, drawn by something he doesn’t quite understand, something quiet, something safe.

yearning (to keep you warm) – Tim is Bad at Self-Care, Biting, Literal Sleeping Together, Implied Sexual Content | Completed, 4,265 words Jason babysits Tim.

where you land – Fluff, Accidental Kissing, First Dates | Completed, 3,354 words Tim starts to realize that falling isn’t so bad when he knows Jason is there to catch him.

a gift, preserved – Crack Fic, Tim Gets His Spleen Back | Completed, 2,361 words Jason asked a teenager boy for dating advice. It went great.

🚨 NSFW 🚨

it's snowing like it’s the end of the world – Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Case Fic | WIP, 19,664 words (6/?) Tim goes missing. Jason has feelings about it.

red lips, white lace – PWP, Feminization Kink, Tim in a Skirt | Completed, 11,122 words Jason does Tim’s makeup. He can't wait until he can ruin it, too.

a quiet place to sleep – Hurt/Mild Comfort, Depression, Blood and Injury, Smut | Completed, 17,789 words After a nearly fatal injury, Tim is forced to reconnect with his family. He expects the worst, but it’s surprising how fast things can change for the better. Healing and romance ensue.

bruises fade, feelings stay (I just want to be your boyfriend) – Friends with Benefits, Mutual Pining, 4+1 Things, Misunderstandings | Completed, 12,681 words Four times Jason tries to show Tim how he feels + one time it actually works out.

unfinished verses – Fluff and Smut, BJs, Pride and Prejudice is Ruined Forever for Jason | Completed, 7,213 words “Did you seriously just compare Pride and Prejudice to our toilet roll debate? Are you listening to yourself?”

[lilacwriter07]

thing is no matter how smart you are, if you are a Beta and catch the intrest of two very hot (dangerous) Omegas . Then most things will go over your head .

Like Beta!Tim didn't understand why Omega!Jason was so intense looking at him, moment he was done with the report and wanted to catch some sleep . The tall Omega walked up to him ."I am nesting .."

Nesting .. Jason will go in heat soon then ."Okay ... Wanna have me take over so- woah ! Jason !" Jason just lifts Tim up and walks to his nest ."Nesting ." When Bruce asked ."Have fun Tim ! "Duke waved as Tim shout curses to be saved .

Ofcourse they have to come across Omega!Dick, who is also nesting and seems to be fighting with Jason constantly .

Moment he saw Tim in Jason's arms meant a very nasty fight .

So Alfred made these two go nest together, Tim thinking he could skip before Alfred shoves him in the room with them ."To keep them for killing each other ."

Door locked as Tim shouts to be let out, only for the Omegas to grab him and drag the Beta to their nest .

Week later Steph and Duke teasily ask Tim how it was, but he won't answer as two very happy content Omegas walked around the manor .

He almost had a fit when he saw Bruce walking around with grandfather 101 books .

[jason-todd-week]

Feature Post

Congratulations to everyone who did Jason Todd Week 2025! (We will also have a summer event, so look out for that!)

Here we have a list of works (fanart and fanfic) by some of the awesome creators who participated in this event. Levels of detail vary by what was submitted to the feedback form. Please check the tags for warnings!

Without further ado...

Lycanwing (@star-wars-lycanwing-bat, Star_Wars_Lycanwing_Bat on AO3) - Series

Road to Murder - On his way to murder the Joker, Jason questions his life's choices. (Drive)

Olive Branches - After a long day, all Jason wants is to go back to his apartment, but a little bird tries to get him to join in on family movie night. (Chronic Pain)

Monster - A half dragon kills Joker and reveals himself to Bruce. (Monster)

Isn't It Lovely, All Alone? - Jason is buried alive and he dies but the pit keeps bringing him back. (Grave, Buried Alive, Immortal Jason Todd)

Hello, Welcome Home - The aftermath of day 5 AKA The family cuddle pile. (Family)

Feline Therapy - Jason rescues a cat but what he doesn't know is that the cat is Tim. (Enemy to Caretaker)

Another Version of Me - Jason get triggered and Dick helps his brother realise that he is loved. (Return)

Birdie (@birdiedoesdc, a_alene on AO3) - Series

N.J.S.A. 39:3-10 - Drive

do you still wake up reaching for an empty space? - Chronic Pain

buried, banging at your door - Monster, League of Assassins

i'm gonna kill you if you don't beat me to it - Immortal Jason Todd

this live, throbbing age that brawls - Jason is a Literature Nerd

mechanically up all night, though - Red Hood and the Outlaws

i'd save a life if i thought it belonged to you - Lifeline

whenicarusflies (@whenicarusflies, whenicarusflies on AO3) - Series

We walked as tall as the skyline - Drive, Time Travel, The Batmobile Tires

when i take a breath I drown - Fear Toxin

How can I then return in happy plight? - League of Assassins

always and forever the last day alive - Grave, Buried Alive, Immortal Jason Todd

Family Problems - Family, No Capes AU

could you give me something for the pain - Enemy to Caretaker, Lifeline

you can't wake up, this is not a dream - Return, Outsider POV, Crime Alley

Chaos (Fic)/Lito (Art) (@freedom-of-speech333, Freedom_of_speech333 on AO3) - Series

The Loss of Tires (The Return of Hope) - The Batmobile Tires

Laughter Follows Me Back To Life - Joker

The Ghost of Who I Was/The Most of Who You Loved - Supernatural AU

I'm Still Here - Immortal Jason Todd

I'm Only Here For The Books - Jason is a Literature Nerd

You’re My Brother, After All - Enemy to Caretaker

The Life, Death, and Second Life of Jason Todd - Outsider POV

basalting (@basalting) - Series

late night drive - Drive

a good fuckin' day - Joker

cuckoo's egg - Supernatural AU

rest your weary heart - Grave

buy one, get one 50% off! - Family

don't think nothin' of it - Red Hood and the Outlaws - Implied Roy/Kori/Jason

it takes a village - Outsider POV, Crime Alley

Stormz (@stormz369) - Masterlist

Day 1 - Flashbacks to Jason's early years with Batman + Reader finding out he was killed. (Batmobile Tires) - x Reader

Day 2 - Reader helps Jason deal with a PTSD nightmare. (Joker) - x Reader

Day 3 - A civilian kid is afraid of Red Hood & Jason processes his feelings about it. (Monster) - x Reader

Day 4 - Jason + Reader at his grave. (Grave) - x Reader

Day 5 - Damian designs scar cover up tattoos for Jason (Family, Jason is a Literature Nerd) - x Reader

Lark Alliance (@snowberriesromanoff, lyricalark on AO3)

Day 7: come in she said i'll give you shelter from the storm - Jason Todd, the Narrows, and something like faith. A character study of Jason's pre-Robin years and the people who help him survive. (Crime Alley) - Selina Kyle/Holly Robinson

nursal1060 (@nursal1060writes, nursal1060 on AO3)

Day 2: The Pain Fades When We're Together - Chronic Pain - JayTim

salem (@worlds-okayest-fag, salemisntdead on AO3) - Series

Carry on my wayward son, there will be peace when you are done - Basically jason gets kidnapped by dick (not that he knows its dick lol). (Drive)

don’t need advice for my pain (it's making me more insecure) - Jason has a not fun night and wont ask for help. (Chronic Pain)

jason todd and the no good terrible very bad day - Supernatural AU

A minute from home (but so far from it) - Jason stuck in a time loop digging himself out of his grave over and over again. (Grave, Immortal Jason Todd)

ohana means family and family means nobody gets left behind (except tim) - Jason, Tim and Dick on a Batburger run for a family movie night, Dick and Jason argue about Disney movies and they accidentally leave Tim behind. (Family, No Capes AU)

And though I am crying and bleeding and barely breathing (youre killing me) - Absolute angst piece about Jason having a mental breakdown in his bathroom bc trauma. (Scars)

i don't believe in luck (against the sun we're the enemy) - Sentient Gotham AU where Jason is Gotham's chosen knight. (Outsider POV)

FaalThien (@faalthien, Faal on AO3)

Day 1 - Time Travel

Day 2 - Joker - JayDick

-

Day 4 - Immortal Jason

Day 5 - Monster, Jason is a Literature Nerd

Day 6 - Scars

Day 7 - Return

[kieran-granola]

Sweet Sorries

(This is a little JayTim Chanukah gift for @silver-snow-77! Thank you for being a lot of fun 💕)

“We missed you at the Manor.”

Jason doesn't flinch but he tenses, his shoulders drawing up as he sets his helmet down on the table. Slowly, he turns around to find Tim sitting at his kitchen table all bundled up in a cozy sweater and scarf. The plate of sufganiyot that Jason cooked and abandoned earlier that day is waiting in front of him, the shape of it somehow accusing in the semi-darkness.

“Who’s we exactly?” Jason asks as he unholsters his guns. 

In the kitchen, Tim shrugs. “Alfred. Bruce. Damian. Me. Take your pick.”

Following his well-practiced routine, Jason unloads his weapons and puts them away in his safe. He'll need to clean them later — to make sure everything will be in working order tomorrow when he heads out into the streets again — but he's got more pressing concerns for now.

“You see me practically everyday, birdie.”

“We don't celebrate Hanukkah everyday, though.”

Jason shrugs off his leather jacket and sprawls on his couch to work on removing his boots. “Technically, for a week, we do.”

Tim's tongue clicks. “Jason.”

“Timothy,” Jason deadpans.

They stare at each other in silence for a minute, then Tim sighs. His shoulders droop, hurt clear on his face. When he speaks, his voice is thin.  “Why didn't you show up? I wanted to spend the night with you. I thought—I was hoping that you wanted to celebrate with me too.”

Shame and guilt bloom in Jason's stomach. Fuck. He's an asshole. He was so caught up in his insecurities, so worried about Bruce's judgment and Alfred's disapproval, that he didn't stop to consider whether Tim would be hurt by his absence. Stomach turning into a mess of knots, he kicks his boots off and stands up. 

“I'm sorry. I was planning to go. I mean—” he gestures to the plate of pastries, “—I even baked. But then I just… I don't know. I couldn't do it.”

Tim bites his lip. “You got scared.”

“I guess.”

“You could have told me. I would have spent the evening with you, we could have—”

“No!” Jason blurts out. “No. It's—You shouldn't have to skip family celebrations just because you decided to fuck the local pariah.”

Tim goes stock-still, his expression smoothing out into an impenetrable mask. “Is that what we're doing? Fucking?”

Dozens of memories flit through Jason’s mind — Tim's smile over shared fries, his strong fingers digging bruises into Jason's hips, heated debates in front of the TV, and days spent curled up together in bed — and his heart stutters. Dammit. He didn’t mean to imply that what they have isn’t serious. 

“No, it's not,” he says slowly. “You know it's not. You're as much of a detective as I am. You’ve got to know how I feel about you.”

“By that logic, you have to know how I feel about you too. But you still left me hanging at the Manor tonight.” 

Jason looks away. Maybe he does know. Maybe he remembers the way Tim took care of him when he was sick despite his own weakened immune system. Maybe he can picture the smile that blooms on his face whenever he wakes up next to Jason. Maybe he knows the shape of Tim's feelings intimately. Maybe he's let him write them across his bones with every kiss and touch.

Maybe it's not enough to compensate for his fear of Bruce anyway.

“I'm sorry,” he repeats. “I should have warned you. I was too caught up in my issues with B to think about you and that was unfair of me. I'll do better next time.”

Tim gives him a long, inscrutable look. Then he sighs. “Alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ve got my own hang-ups when it comes to Bruce, so… Apology accepted. On one condition.”

“Anything you want. Just say the word.”

“I want a sufganiyah,” Tim replies lightly. “And a kiss.”

Gratitude fills Jason’s chest with sunshine. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t Tim’s playful answer. To be forgiven so easily and reminded that Tim cares for him all in one fell swoop… It’s a gift he never thought he’d be given.

Eyes stinging, he moves closer and pushes the plate towards Tim. “Take as many as you want. Hell, eat them all. I can always make more.”

Tim grabs a beignet. He takes a bite, and powdered sugar sticks to his mouth, bright and enticing. 

Jason leans in reflexively at the sight. Every inch of him longs for a taste of Tim’s sweetness. As clumsy with his words as he can be, he knows exactly how to touch Tim by now. How to handle him with the care and reverence he doesn’t know how to express when he’s not borrowing a poet’s words. 

(Art commissioned from the lovely @coffeexrage)

Tim notices him staring. He lifts his chin and gives Jason an expectant look, his blue eyes impossibly bright. “Well? That’s only half of what I asked for. Where’s my kiss?”

Laughing quietly, Jason crosses the distance between them and kisses the tip of Tim’s freckled nose. “There.”

Tim scrunches up his nose. “I meant a proper kiss.”

“Finish eating, you gremlin. I’ll kiss you as many times as you want after.”

“You sure about that?” Tim grins slyly. “Because I might need a kiss every day until I die.”

Jason rolls his eyes even as his heart misses a beat. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Oh, I can drive it harder.” Tim gives him an exaggerated wink.

Flushing, Jason takes a sufganiyah and pushes it against Tim’s lips to shut him up. “Eat or you won’t get any kisses at all.”

“Yessir.” Half-laughing, Tim takes a bite and the two of them share a smile. 

Jason doesn’t know what tomorrow will be like — whether Tim will insist on going to the Manor to light the candles again, and whether he’ll have the strength to accompany him if he does. What he does know, though, is that Tim’s gentle warmth is enough to make him want to keep making an effort. He might never be able to mend things with Bruce, he still damn well intends to nurture his relationship with Tim.

One kiss at a time.

[suzukiblu]

i am literally for real obsessed with your timberkon pink kryptonite fic so i definitely would love to see another sneak peek, but i'm also loving all the superfam stuff you're putting out!!! something that i wish you would write because i love your works (and have since the darcy lewis stucky days) and i think you would do amazing things with the pairing is jaytim, but i know thats not everyones cup of tea

(i realize now that you were probably aiming for an ask rather than a reply so here it is in your inbox too hskdhsh)

Thank you! ❤️ And oh, asks and replies were both fine for this, no worries. I try to just specify in-post whenever I have a preference but it's not gonna bother me either way.

I DO like JayTim to read, but I've never really felt a particular bug to write it myself? At least not yet, anyway, that may one day change. Though I miiiiight still put Kon in the middle because I am who I am and all, haha.

I'm planning to update the pink K fic on AO3 tomorrow, though I'm pretty sure I've already posted enough of chapter two in excerpts on Tumblr to have posted basically all of it by now and I'm trying to avoid doing that with chapter three, sooooo instead please accept the beginning of this very niche Superfam omegaverse pack dynamics AU instead. I've been looking for an excuse to post this whole big long thing anyway, lol.

Read-more for length, 'cuz there's kind of a lot here, haha.

.

The representative from the wet nurse agency shows up fifteen minutes early with an unusual-seeming omega who can't be a day over nineteen, being generous. Bruce makes a note to look into the agency's hiring practices a little more closely. The current situation is something of an emergency, unfortunately, and he's only had time to run the intermediate-level background checks so far.

Maybe this isn't the prospective wet nurse, he halfheartedly hopes, and they're just another representative; one who's in training or just here as backup. The kid smells like milk, though, and also why the hell would the agency send out an omega representative? Omegas are typically secretaries and clerks and almost all do in-office jobs, where they're "protected" from the outside world.

The practice is stupid and demeaning and borderline abhorrent, but it's a step up from the days when an omega couldn't get any job that wasn't as a nanny or a sex worker or some fucked-up combination of the two. Clark being an actual reporter is something that was practically unheard of two lousy generations back, and even now Clark is still an unusual exception in his field. Typically, an omega writing for a newspaper would be doing gossip or advice or something domestic, not investigative journalism.

So no, there's no way that this particular omega is anything but a wet nurse candidate, unusual-seeming and concerningly young or not. And Bruce had insisted on the candidate coming to meet them in person, even when the agency had very unsubtly implied that it would be better to just have the milk delivered.

Bruce is absolutely looking into this agency's hiring practices. An omega this age should barely be presented. One who's already allegedly producing enough milk to be a viable wet nurse for what they're requesting . . .

It's concerning, yes.

"Master Bruce, the representative from the Waterton Agency and her associate," Alfred introduces politely, gesturing between Bruce and their guests. He doesn't look or smell disapproving, even in the mildest notes, but Bruce knows he is.

Of course he is, with an omega who might be being either abused or taken advantage of or outright trafficked in the manor.

Bruce should've run a better background check.

"Hello, Alpha Wayne. My name is Ellen Travers," the agency representative greets tightly as Bruce steps into the parlor. She's a harried-looking blonde beta with graying hair who looks very unhappy to be here and is doing a very bad job of hiding the nervous dissatisfaction in her scent.

She doesn't introduce the omega.

Bruce puts on his stupid "Brucie" grin and strides right up to Travers, sticking a hand out to shake. She puts on a weak attempt at a polite smile in return and takes it.

"Hello there, Beta Travers, thanks so much for coming out here on such short notice!" Bruce greets her with a lie of cheerfulness, but Travers continues to smell nervous and upset and her smile is no less forced. And the omega . . .

The kid smells downright sullen, which is not a typical scent to catch off an unfamiliar presented omega and doesn't do anything to make him seem any older.

And yes, he's definitely unusual. He's much taller than Travers–about Bruce's own height, in fact–and has a very broad build and a surprising amount of muscle on him on top of that. Bruce knows full-grown alphas who'd kill to be built like this kid. He's also much more "handsome" than "beautiful", and frankly couldn't look less like the kind of sweet and pretty little things the agency had advertised on their website if he tried, much less the soft and maternal type Bruce had been expecting to actually have show up, given the specific requests he'd made.

Well, it does make sense. Bruce obviously wasn't going to provide the agency with either a Kryptonian genetic profile or a Kryptonian pup's exact dietary needs in search of a suitable wet nurse, but the nutrient requests that they'd made would likely necessitate an omega of a similar build to Clark's to supply–hell, the kid even resembles him a bit, funnily enough. They've already had four agencies tell them that they simply didn't have an appropriate candidate on staff, and the milk samples they'd been able to provide hadn't proven very helpful.

Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, but Martha had at least had the advantage of having a pack bond with him. A packmate's milk always does miles better by a pup than a stranger's or any kind of formula ever could.

Though she'd had some very odd cravings while nursing him, she'd told them. And Clark had still grown up underfed, even with formula and yellow sunlight to supplement–the Fortress had observed marked evidence of childhood malnutrition in him, he'd said.

Occasionally Bruce wonders what a properly-nursed Kryptonian raised under a yellow sun from infancy would've actually turned out like.

The thought is . . . well. A thought.

A thought that still makes him leery of how Jon Kent might grow up, sometimes.

Those concerns aside, though, the really unusual thing about this omega isn't either his physique or his face. Bruce is perfectly used to omegas with "nontraditional" looks after knowing Clark and Diana this long, to say nothing of various other Justice League members or other superheroes and villains he's known, or of both raising and reuniting with Jason. But this omega isn't as demurely dressed as mild-mannered Clark Kent would be; he's wearing opaque sunglasses and an alpha-cut studded leather jacket and alpha-style jeans and an inconveniently inaccessible plain black T-shirt with no sign of a nursing bra underneath it, nothing soft or appealing in either his clothes or his posture. If anything, he looks aggressive; tense and guarded and ready to start some shit. Even Jason usually puts up a temporary illusion of traditional omega mannerisms when he's meeting strangers as a civilian, if only so he'll be underestimated. This kid isn't even pretending to make the attempt.

And the kid smells completely and undeniably stray, too. Bruce can't catch a single note of packscent coming off him. Not even the scent of whatever pup got him milked up enough to qualify for this job. Unbred omegas sometimes lactate in heat or when under stress or if someone in their pack either has or adopts a pup, but a stray who doesn't smell particularly distressed or anything like he's on his cycle shouldn't be producing any milk at all.

At least not without using the kind of stimulants that Bruce explicitly forbade when filling out the agency application, anyway. Those medications are necessary for some omegas, obviously, but in this situation . . .

Kryptonian pups don't respond well to getting anything like that in their milk, they've already very thoroughly learned.

The omega also has spiked stainless steel piercings in his ears, snake bites under his mouth, and two curved barbells in his left eyebrow. All his other jewelry is heavy alpha-styled rings and bracelets, and his nails are painted a chipped black. And he is, notably, not wearing any kind of collar or necklace, and his neck is completely unmarked.

Bruce is in no way oblivious to the obvious message that an uncollared and unbitten omega's neck presents when left so obviously bared. Especially on a stray one who's dressed like an alpha and standing like he's expecting a fight.

He cannot imagine why this kid is working as a wet nurse.

None of the theories that come to mind bode particularly well, though.

"This omega is our most fitting candidate for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, her smile turning increasingly forced. Bruce thinks he can safely translate that expression as that of a beta who did not in any way agree with that assessment but was stuck following orders. "She fulfills all of your nutritional requests, including the necessary iron content and the prioritized fats and proteins, and, of course, is not taking any manner of lactation-inducing stimulants or supplements."

"He," the omega corrects, sounding dubious. Travers's mouth tightens. Bruce knows a lot of old-school traditionalists who won't call a male omega "he" or a female alpha "she", no matter what said omega or alpha's preferences happen to be, and makes another note about looking into this agency more thoroughly.

Much more thoroughly.

"She isn't available for direct nursing, unfortunately, but her milk is a perfect match to your requests and she produces both excellently and reliably; her supply will be more than enough for your needs," Travers continues as if the omega hadn't spoken, and the omega's lip curls in obvious annoyance as he rolls his eyes with no attempt to hide his exasperation even in the presence of an unfamiliar alpha.

Bruce thinks of Jason with a brief pang, and pushes the thought aside. It's not the time.

Maybe he could've asked Jason for help with this, if he'd been a better father. A better alpha. A better . . .

But he wasn't, so now there's an annoyed stranger standing in his parlor instead of a content packmate curled up in their nest.

"Really?" he asks, tilting his head and blinking down at Travers with a deliberately surprised expression. "The consultant made it sound like you'd need multiple donors, for the amount we're asking."

If one goddamn barely-presented kid is actually producing enough milk to even half-feed a Kryptonian pup . . .

"This omega produces sufficient quantities for your needs, Alpha Wayne," Travers replies with another forced smile. She must know how ridiculous a statement that is, when she's talking about a stray kid and not a fully mature omega with at least a couple of litters under their belt who's well-established in a stable pack, but she says it with conviction all the same.

"Oh, good!" Bruce says brightly, because he's supposed to be a stupid knotheaded playboy who wouldn't know a damn thing about nursing either way. "That'll be convenient, then."

Frankly, he only wishes one omega could produce what they need right now, but requesting that much milk from one agency for just one pup would be immediately flagged as suspicious, and definitely turned down outright. They're still looking for other candidates under false names, but at the rate they're going, they're going to need to keep supplementing with formula, which already hasn't been going well.

If Clark could get milked up himself, this wouldn't be a problem, of course. A Kryptonian omega could easily produce more than enough for one Kryptonian pup, especially under a yellow sun. Clark nursed Jon without a problem for years and was actually overproducing when he was, Bruce knows very well.

Unfortunately, that's not an option anymore. Not since . . .

Clark would never forgive himself if something like that happened again.

Never.

And Kara and Karen are both alphas, and Jon's a beta and only ten anyway, and the only other living Kryptonians they know of are either remorseless criminals imprisoned in the Phantom Zone or the sickly little pup who's slowly wasting away upstairs.

Formula and concentrated yellow sunlight haven't been enough. Clark can't get milked up anymore. They haven't been able to synthesize any appropriate supplements either in the Fortress or in working with the Justice League or STAR Labs or even in collaborating between them.

And the pup is just getting weaker, and quieter, and sicker.

A human wet nurse probably won't even help that much, at this point, but . . .

Well, it's the best chance they have to keep the pup alive until they can synthesize something. Maybe the only chance, now.

"We strive to provide to our clients' convenience, Alpha Wayne," Travers says, and the omega rolls his eyes again. Bruce is less and less convinced of him being an adult in any way but the presentation of his pheromones.

It's rude to address an unfamiliar unpacked omega directly, especially as an alpha. Technically Travers is chaperoning them in a professional situation, though, and Bruce has increasing suspicions about this omega's personal standards so far as "manners" go anyway.

And everyone knows Brucie Wayne is stupid and shameless, of course.

So he flashes the kid a grin, and he says, "Well, it's great to meet you, we appreciate you making the trip! What's your name, Mr. . . .?"

The kid blinks at him, clearly surprised both to be spoken to and to be called "Mr." instead of "Miss" or "Ms." or even "Omega". Travers looks absolutely scandalized.

Bruce really doesn't approve of the kind of traditionalists who won't introduce an omega or use their stated pronouns, though, so fuck if he cares.

"Her name is Carly, Alpha Wayne!" Travers interjects quickly, her tone a little bit too bright to be genuine. "Short for Caroline."

"Just Carl," the kid corrects, shaking his head. Travers's mouth tightens again. It's not a very typical omega name, so no surprise.

It occurs to Bruce to wonder if Carl might be a trans alpha, which he probably should've thought to wonder as soon as he saw how he was dressed and got an impression of his personality. Obviously the kid's at least not currently on HRT if he's working as a wet nurse, but that doesn't rule out the possibility of him being transgender all the same.

Actually, affording gender-affirming care is definitely a reason that a kid like this one would be working this job, especially if said kid's family weren't supporting them. Wet nurses make more money than most other fields that omegas without a diploma can expect to get into, at least short of sex work, and Carl is very obviously too young to have graduated college yet.

Actually, Bruce still isn't even sure if he's old enough to have graduated high school yet.

He's going to burn down this whole damn agency if they're knowingly employing a minor as a wet nurse.

"Nice to meet you, Carl," he says easily. Carl's eyes narrow consideringly, and then he folds his arms and smirks, crooked and casual.

"Sure," he says. "Nice to meet you too, Wayne."

Travers looks agonized. The last non-alpha stranger who called Bruce "Wayne" instead of "Alpha Wayne" was a beta terrorist who was in the middle of kidnapping him, and he's not sure any omega who wasn't an active supervillain ever has, so he's not surprised by her reaction.

Carl is still watching him with the same cocky smirk, though, an obvious challenge in the expression and his posture both. Bruce puts another point towards the possibility of him being a trans alpha, though he's not stupid enough to actually ask if he is, especially not in front of someone the kid works under. Presentation aside, Carl might not be out, and Travers is currently at least professionally following traditional manners, so Bruce doesn't have much hope for this agency being all that progressive and doesn't want to accidentally get the kid fired.

Though if Carl is a minor, Bruce is going to have to see if he can't slip him a business card and find him another job. Especially if he's going to be burning down the agency he's working for.

"Why aren't you available for direct nursing, if you don't mind me asking?" he asks in a curious tone, because he still can't smell a pup on the kid and most wet nurses who aren't nursing their own pups do direct nursing, and he wants intel about the agency's typical practices. Carl shrugs.

"Stubborn tits," he replies, pushing his chest out as he gestures at himself with no apparent sense of shame or self-consciousness, and Travers looks increasingly agonized. Bruce is just increasingly missing Jason, himself. "Milk flows too slow and the pups always get all fussy and stress out about it. Which, whatever, pups are weird anyway, they're not really my thing."

"'Weird'?" Bruce repeats, carefully noting the lack of possessives in reference to any potentially dysphoria-triggering anatomy. Still not a confirmation, but another point. Carl shrugs again.

"I'm afraid Carly doesn't bond appropriately with pups, Alpha Wayne," Travers interjects quickly, and Carl scowls at her. "She has an unfortunate detachment disorder."

"I 'attach' fine," Carl grumbles sourly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just don't like kids."

Travers grimaces. Bruce keeps pretending to be an oblivious idiot. He has met omegas who don't like children. They exist.

They're just all deeply, deeply traumatized people. Or clinically insane.

Or both, frequently.

So . . . "detachment disorder" seems likely, yes.

Bruce doesn't consider either sex or gender to be the end-all be-all of a person, of course, but there are certain biological imperatives that no one can deny as existing, and a lactating omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–really, just about any omega faced with a theoretical hungry pup–is not ever going to say they "just" don't like kids. Usually the problem with omega wet nurses is them liking kids too much, in fact, and getting distressed or depressed when the parents wean the pups and they won't be seeing them again. The decent agencies have psychological support for that in place and typically offer paid leave between long-term clients. The Waterton Agency does up to a month, which is one of the reasons Bruce chose it.

So yes, Carl is almost definitely traumatized.

Though really, a wet nurse who won't be around much isn't the worst thing, considering. Neither Clark nor Jon started developing any especially noticeable powers until they were older, but they can't assume anything based off a sample size of two, especially when said sample size is made up of biological relatives. And even if they didn't have to worry about that, well, the manor is frequently full of vigilantes and the cave is right underneath it. There's a lot that a regular guest could notice, especially over however long they might need to be nursing. Especially because nursing is a quiet, out-of-the-way activity that takes a while, and it would be very easy for someone to forget to keep their voice down or to not do a damn quadruple-backflip off a chandelier at the wrong moment.

And there's a reason Clark and Lois brought this problem to the shadows of Gotham, as opposed to staying in bright and sunny Metropolis with it. They've got something to hide right now, and a lot to figure out.

Plus if even a molecule of kryptonite gets involved in this situation, even secondhand . . .

Power Girl and Supergirl and Steel are the ones taking shifts watching Metropolis right now, and everyone is just going to leave it at that. Superman isn't coming out for anything less than the apocalypse.

"Well, the Lane-Kents will probably want you to meet the kiddo either way, if you don’t mind," Bruce tells Carl, offering an easy shrug. "Peace of mind, you know how it is."

"Not really," Carl says. Bruce debates slipping the kid a psychiatrist's business card, but he'd probably take it as an insult.

"Er, yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says awkwardly. "Actually, we were expecting Alpha Lane to be with you . . . ?"

"Lois is currently stuck in Metropolis traffic thanks to Metallo bashing up half of downtown this afternoon and Clark is upstairs getting the kiddo around. Little guy just woke up from his nap," Bruce replies with a pleasant smile, making another note of how Travers left off the omega member of the couple's last name, and also apparently doesn't expect to be meeting said omega at all. He is increasingly regretting choosing this agency, though he may yet manage to do some good in the world by subtly dismantling it. Or maybe just by buying it outright and doing a little restructuring.

Or a lot of restructuring.

"Wait, it's not your kid?" Carl asks, wrinkling his nose with a puzzled expression. Travers looks pained. The Waterton Agency isn't Gotham-based, so Bruce isn't sure why she apparently expects Carl to be up on the Wayne pack's current members, especially considering how she keeps talking over and outright ignoring him. Bruce has a hard time picturing her bothering to provide the information herself, at this point.

"Oh, no, just doing a favor for some visiting friends," he replies smoothly, still wearing the same pleasant smile. Which is a lie, of course, because actually the Lane-Kents are part of his secondary pack and "visiting friends" therefore in no way covers what they are to him. The Wayne pack is both his primary and his family pack, obviously, and the Justice League is a loosely-connected tertiary pack, but his secondary pack lacks both an official name and public recognition, because explaining to the public why Brucie Wayne's secondary pack is two award-winning reporters from Metropolis, a random museum curator in Gateway City, a decorated Navy SEAL, and occasionally a cat burglar with commitment issues is just not going to work out for anyone's secret identities.

And that even without counting how everyone knows about Lois Lane and Steve Trevor's respective very public connections to Superman and Wonder Woman, much less ever explaining anything about Selina. Bruce, meanwhile, still isn't sure how he ended up in a pack with any of these people. Clark and Diana definitely have a lot to answer for either way, though.

Mostly he blames Clark. Diana has more decorum. Clark is just . . . Clark, so now Bruce gets a scarf and cookies from Martha Kent every Christmas, never mind that he's technically Jewish, because God forbid he ever tells her that and she starts sending him Hanukkah presents instead. He cannot handle eight nights' worth of Martha Kent's colorfully-wrapped scarves and lovingly-packaged cookies. That's just not a thing he can do.

He doesn't even celebrate holidays, except when Dick cons him into it. Which admittedly he's been doing more often again the past few years, but–

This is off-topic, Bruce reminds himself, but then gets distracted as Carl cocks his head a little and frowns over something. Bruce instinctively wants to brace himself for trouble at the sight, because that frown actually very strongly reminds him of Clark's "what the hell weird and concerning thing did I just notice with my super-senses" frown, but A) Carl doesn't have super-senses and B) Bruce just heard the stairs creak, which means the actual Clark is finally on his way down to meet them. No one else in the manor would ever make the steps creak any way but deliberately except for Lois or Jon, and Jon is out on a walk with Damian and Titus while Lois is, again, currently stuck in Metropolis traffic. So: Clark, definitely.

Also Clark tends to make the stairs creak a lot louder than either Lois or Jon do, given the very notable size difference there.

"Has Alpha Lane authorized you to make decisions for his pup's care, Alpha Wayne?" Travers asks with another forced smile. Bruce is resolving to check specifically her background too, at this point.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, good ol' Clark's right here," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's his pup too, and he knows much more about ones this age than I do anyway."

"Yes, well, omegas tend to get a little . . . irrational about the idea of sharing their pups with a wet nurse," Travers says "politely", like she thinks she's stating a fact. Bruce would say something cheerful-sounding and subtly insulting back, typically, but Carl's frown is deepening and he looks a little bit . . . odd, maybe, or . . .

There's a strange little pup-call from the stairs, very quiet and echoing in unusual registers but still recognizably one all the same, and just as recognizably resigned-sounding. It's a pup-call that clearly expects to go unanswered, at this point, which is something that Bruce would like to never hear again in his life, given the option.

Though it's better than a pup who's given up on calling at all, he supposes.

He tries not to grimace at that thought, though he's sure Clark's grimacing enough for the both of them right now after hearing a call like that. The pup is starving, and they just can't feed him properly. At this point sending him back where he came from might be kinder.

Honestly, if Bruce didn't know exactly who his parents were, he might've already insisted on that.

It's just–

The pup calls again, even quieter. Travers looks perplexed.

"Er," she says. "I apologize, Alpha Wayne, but is the pup ill? We can't be around them if they are, it's against agency policy."

"Oh, the kiddo just sounds like that," Bruce replies dismissively, and then lies, "Vocal chord deformity, apparently. We're not sure what caused it, pediatrician thinks it's something genetic."

Well, it is genetic. Jon calls in exactly the same registers, and according to Martha and Jonathan so did Clark.

So it's genetic, yes. Just not a deformity.

Carl's expression looks–odd, still. Bruce isn't sure what to think of it, but it makes him a bit wary. A detachment disorder doesn't imply an actual negative reaction to the presence of a pup, obviously, but . . .

Clark steps into the parlor with Lor-Zod sitting on his hip, the pup no older than two or so and looking small and listless in his arms, his dark skin all washed out and his previously bright eyes gone dull and tired. When he first crash-landed in Metropolis in the rocket he'd been wrapped up inside, Clark said he'd popped out of it energetic and excited and clamoring for attention in toddler-level Kryptonian, but he's been slowly fading ever since, wasting away without the nutrients that they just can't provide him. He's probably only made it this long thanks to the sun.

Again, Bruce has no idea how the Kents ever fed Clark, though he was already at least three by the time they got him, which probably helped. A pup Lor's age is capable of eating solid food, obviously, but milk or formula is still a major part of a pup's diet until they're four or five, if not older, and the longer the better. Hell, most kids still at least semi-regularly nurse for as long as their dam can manage to stay milked up, or even until they present themselves. No one can wean a damn toddler and expect them to thrive.

Or even survive, in Lor's case.

Lor opens his mouth in another weak, resigned little pup-call, and Clark's own mouth tightens as he restrains himself from answering it and giving the pup false hope for milk he just doesn't have, and Bruce steels himself to–

Carl croons.

Travers startles. Bruce is . . . surprised, a bit. A detachment disorder doesn't really imply the kind of omega who'd croon at a pup they've never seen before in their life, after all.

It's an unusual and unpracticed croon, as if it's a sound Carl doesn't make very often, which Bruce supposes would make sense. Lor responds to it immediately, though, shifting weakly in Clark's arms and pup-calling again.

Carl, with absolutely no manners or decorum whatsoever, sweeps right past Travers and Bruce and Alfred and just plucks Lor straight out of Clark's arms. Which–forget the kid calling him "Wayne"; that's a damn etiquette breach. Hell, Clark probably only didn't take Carl's head off for snatching up his pup without permission because he's so clearly dumbfounded that he actually did it.

Bruce is slightly less dumbfounded due to having spent five seconds in the kid's presence, but still, what is he–

"Carly!" Travers chokes in horror. Carl very obviously doesn't even hear her and just starts purring at Lor and cuddling him close in a way that really doesn't even slightly imply "detachment disorder".

And then Bruce figures out what was "odd" about Carl's expression, before.

"Huh," he says, a little bemused. "Did he just go into feral drop?"

"Alpha Wayne, I assure you, this is not the Waterton Agency's standard of behavior!" Travers sputters, sounding even more horrified, and Clark just blinks and tilts his head.

"I think he did, yeah," he says, looking perplexed. Carl continues ignoring everyone in the room except for Lor and just purrs louder at him as they both nuzzle into each other. Lor makes more very distinctly Kryptonian pup-calls at him, and Carl croons back with no apparent concern over their strangeness, sounding absolutely goddamn enamored.

That is definitely not a detachment disorder, Bruce thinks. There is no possible way that an omega with a detachment disorder just went into full feral drop over a pup at first sight.

Or possibly first sound, he's realizing.

Bruce is perfectly aware that omegas can feral-bond with distressed pups whether they mean to or not, but he's never seen it happen this fast outside of a warzone or a natural disaster. He's heard hearsay and read studies about particularly compatible sets that have done it under less stressful circumstances, but distressed and starving pup or not, he wouldn't have even expected a human omega to be capable of bonding with a Kryptonian pup like that.

Or at all, frankly. Deliberately created and carefully cultivated pack bonds are one thing, but . . .

Lor chirps, the sound still a little quiet and fragile, a little weak, but also undeniably hopeful, and Carl gives him a low, rumbly purr in reply and yanks up his inconveniently-cut T-shirt to expose his chest with no trace of hesitation or modesty. He's already leaking sweetly-scented milk, already adjusting his grip on Lor to let the pup get at his chest as easily and comfortably as possible, and Lor latches without a moment's hesitation and immediately starts to nurse.

And then Lor purrs. Carl just watches him with undeniable adoration, still paying no attention whatsoever to anyone else in the room.

Alright, then, Bruce thinks carefully.

Well, that just happened.

"Thought you didn't like kids, Carl?" he inquires casually, putting on an easy grin, and Carl finally seems to come up enough to remember that the rest of them exist, though he still doesn't actually take his eyes off Lor.

"I would literally become a supervillain if this kid asked me to," he replies dreamily, keeping Lor cradled in one arm and tracing a finger down the pup's cheek with a soft, besotted expression that's unmistakable for what it is even with the sunglasses on. He looks like he might just burn down the world if someone tried to take Lor away from him right now, and his pheromones are so all-encompassing and so cloyingly sweet that Bruce genuinely might need to see a dentist after this.

"Well usually I'd say we keep Batman in the loop on that kind of thing around here, but if the kiddo asks, it only seems fair," he jokes with a laugh.

"I would drop-kick Batman off a roof for you," Carl informs Lor lovingly as he strokes his cheek again and then skims a fingertip along the little barely-visible scar splitting his eyebrow. Lor keeps purring sweetly and Alfred coughs to conceal a low chuckle. Clark looks a little pained to be watching one of his pups nurse from another omega so easily and eagerly, but his mouth quirks in amusement at the comment anyway. Bruce doesn't dignify any of them with a response, because he is an alpha with dignity and also is in no way threatened by a passing comment from a barely-presented kid who clearly isn't even combat-trained.

. . . although he also isn't going to be stupid enough to try coaxing Lor away from the omega he just feral-bonded with just yet either.

Then Tim walks by the doorway, takes one look at Carl with Lor, and trips over literally nothing and into a full faceplant on the foyer floor. Bruce pauses, then raises an eyebrow.

"Alright down there, Timmy?" he asks. Tim scrambles back to his feet, looking more genuinely mortified than he's ever seen him.

"Fine!" he blurts. "Fine. Everything's fine. All the things are fine. Uh. What? Who?"

"This is Carl," Bruce says, gesturing to the kid. "Wet nurse from the Waterton Agency. And his escort, Beta Travers. Carl, Beta Travers, this is my son, Tim Drake-Wayne. And also Clark Lane-Kent and his pup, Chris Lane-Kent, who I'm assuming you've figured out are your prospective clients."

"Yes, Alpha Wayne," Travers says with a grimace. "We gathered."

"Ngh," Tim says, looking at literally everything but Carl and Lor. His face is bright red, which is an unusual amount of embarrassment for him to be showing just over tripping. Typically he masks that kind of thing a lot more effectively. Bruce would almost think he was actually embarrassed by watching Carl feed Lor, but Tim's literally never been affected by anything but passing curiosity when seeing a pup nurse before, so that seems unlikely. And he's a male beta, if still an unpresented one, so it's not like he's got any reason to care all that much about it anyway.

So his reaction does seem a little odd, yes.

Hm.

"Chris," Carl coos adoringly down at Lor. Bruce is in no way stupid enough to think that he absorbed any of the rest of that introduction or has even noticed Tim's presence at all. He wouldn't even put money on him having noticed Clark's presence, in fact, except as a pup-delivery system. The kid is very clearly in love with the pup in his arms and doesn't give a damn about any of the rest of them at all.

Detachment disorder. Sure.

[flavourlessfiction]

Okay, I kinda need to yap/need help for the upcoming Jaytim Week, so I'm gonna partially spoil what I'm doing for one day.

Which is, a His Dark Materials AU, well more specifically everyone's got Daemons AU.

For those that don't know the very basics is everyone has a manifestation of their inner-self, and kinda their soul that takes the form of an animal. Everyone can see them and they can't stray too far from the human's physical body, and when you're a child your daemon can change forms but it settles into one animal later in life.

Now where I need help is brainstorming ideas for different daemons for different characters. I've got Jason sorted so don't worry about that but everyone else, I am very open to hearing suggestions. I will; note this will not be a no capes AU so it is kind of implied that they've got to be able to travel for vigilante stuff

So please reply/dm/send an ask with any of your suggestions, I am truly open to many different ideas because some of my own ones I'd like to dump for being a little too on the nose.

[ladytauria]

tauria if youre taking requests for whumpmas can i throw my hat in for sprained ankle with jaytim? i dislocated, relocated, and severely sprained my ankle two weeks ago and id love to live vicariously through jaytim comfort 😩

!! i hope your ankle is doing better, bean!! sorry this is so late ^^;

this... did not end up being very whumpy or hurt/comfort-y. but i hope you enjoy the boys being dumb <3

(also! i am always happy to take requests related to prompt lists or not <333)

>> AO3 <<

“If you’re going to boss me around like this, you could at least wear a nurse’s uniform,” Tim grouses.

His ankle is balanced on the arm of the couch and cradled in ice. Jason’s fingers caress the swollen skin before coming down to settle on his calf as he kneels next to the couch. His hand is a warm, solid weight that has no right to feel as good as it does. 

He’s joking… mostly. He’d pay a lot—and he does mean a lot—of money to see Jason in an actual sexy nurse’s costume. The short white dress, especially one of the ones with a zipper, exposing the swell of Jason’s pecs… the tight white skirt clinging to his thighs. Red boots… And a cute little cap to top it off.

Tim salivates just thinking about it.

(Although, if he was going to dress Jason in anything… The original Robin panties are at the top of the list. And then it’s a tie between a maid uniform and a schoolgirl’s.)

Jason snorts.“Tell you what,” he says. “If you follow all o’ Leslie and Alfie’s advice… I’ll wear one after you’re cleared for physical activity.”

Oh… Tempting. Very tempting. But— “You’re just saying that because you think I’ll fail,” he accuses. Otherwise, no way would his boyfriend, Jason Todd, agree to dress up in a sexy little costume for him. Tim asked him to keep his holsters on one night and the man turned into a blushing mess.

It was adorable, yeah, but it meant Jason wasn’t exactly the type to just… Offer something like that with a straight face.

“History is workin’ against you,” he agrees. A light blush steals over his face. “But, yanno. Anythin’ can happen. If… If you can follow most of their advice… I’ll wear the uniform.”

Tim hums, considering. When—not if—Tim wins, Jason will probably show up in scrubs, because he thinks he’s hilarious. (Sometimes he is, to be fair.) Jokes on him though. Tim probably wouldn’t pay quite as much money to see that, but he’d still be willing to pay an exorbitant amount.

Hnn… Just the idea of sucking Jason off through a pair of scrubs, or bending him over a bed, pulling them down so he can rim him…

Hot.

Either way, Tim wins.

“You’re on,” he says, sticking out his hand. “You want to claim something if I lose?”

Jason shakes. “Sure. If you lose, you have to do whatever I say for a week.”

“That implies I get a week of the uniform,” Tim counters.

Jason turns a brighter shade of pink, nearing red. “Three days.”

Tim smiles beatifically. “Three days,” he agrees.

He’s going to be the best patient Leslie has ever had.

[ditzyredrobin]

Ditzy’s AIless Whumptober 2024 Masterlist!

Rules and prompts can be found here. Thank you so much to @ailesswhumptober for putting on this event! In true Ditzy fashion it was Tim Drake whump all month long. I have a few half finished drabbles that might make their way into the world at some point so keep an eye out. My AO3 collection can be found here.

Day 7 - Field medicine, running out of supplies, Hold on, were going to have to improvise.

JayDickTim

Word Count: 714

TW: Blood and injury

Day 10 - Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, "You don't need to earn this."

Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Word Count: 245

TW: Implied suicidal ideation

Day 17 - Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

Batfam & Tim Drake

Word Count: 731

TW: Blood and injury, a/b/o dynamics

Day 23 - Fever, passing out, "Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!"

JayDickTim

Word Count: 855

TW: Suicidal ideation, blood and injury, punctured lung

Day 25 - Humiliation, betrayal, "How could you?!"

JayTim

Word Count: 1,471

TW: Blood and injury, a/b/o dynamics, needles and stitches

Day 27 - Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there's a first or everything."

(Past) Tim Drake/Ra’s Al Ghul, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson

Word Count: 1,499

TW: Implied noncon, implied mpreg, a/b/o dynamics

Day 28 - Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, "I didn't think the wound was that bad...”

JayDickTim

Word Count: 1,417

TW: Blood and injury, self-worth issues, stab wounds, needles and stitches

[bestangelofall]

natelektra, jaytim, Matt/Natasha for the ship ask game

Natelektra - Ship it

So, the thing is that I've been slowly becoming a Nat multishipper. Before I interacted with comics fandom, I was exclusively a Buckynat shipper, then I reread BW2001 and went "ohhh I'll make an exception for Yelenat", and then bam, now I ship a lot of ships, but I'm not super in the fandom of these ships, Natelektra being one such ship.

What made me ship it

Name of the Rose and made me go a bit "Oh?" about them (you know, how it's kind of implied that Nat is the big bad wolf and Elektra is Little Red Riding Hood, with those "wolves and girls. both have sharp teeth" panels), and then I was reading a random DD issue because Nat was there, and I found out that Natasha was there for Elektra's resurrection! It was a bit shocking, and I went "hmm I think they should be more intertwined."

My favorite things about it

Hmmmm the toxic quality of it (I was introduced to it, so to speak, with Name of the Rose, so that's my first impression of them). The fact that they can beat each other up (and could do it to the death because both of them would not back off from killing the other if it was necessary).

Also, for crack-ish reasons, the fact that they are both Matt's exes xD I'm like, "yeah, leave him and fuck each other!"

Unpopular opinion

Hmmm I don't interact with the ship's fandom, so I don't know how unpopular my opinions would be, but I think it's that I think they'd have one night stands to blow off steam and that ultimately don't mean a lot.

Jaytim - I kind of ship it

Jaytim is a complicated case, in that I enjoy certain portrayals of it, and follow some Jaytim wips, but I really dislike certain other portrayals of it. It's not even because I think it's OoC or whatever (though certain aspects of it *are* about that), but I just... don't vibe with those. I'm so divided on this one that I don't know if I follow with the ship or don't ship it tree of questions... so I think I'll do a mix of both and say that I like this ship when it doesn't put Jason there to prop Tim up, when it absolutely IS NOT about Tim whump, and when it doesn't victim blame Jason (unless it's for horror purposes :3 because then I do like it).

Matt/Natasha - I kind of ship it

Not gonna lie, I haven't read every comic where this ship features, and some of my impressions of it come from out of context panels.

What made me ship it

this fic by @cybersat.

What are my favorite things about it

The toxic vibe I get from them. I think I ship them as exes xD

Unpopular opinion

Again, I don't think I've interacted in this fandom enough to know how unpopular my opinions would be.

Thank you for the ask! :)